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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665452">Momijigari: A Noh Play</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/collapsingStars/pseuds/collapsingStars'>collapsingStars</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Shuake Week 2020 Project [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Acting, Between 1300 and 1500 during the Muromachi period, Confessions, Day Two: Corruption/Masks/Games, Found Family Aspects, Friends to Frenemies to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, Noh - Freeform, ShuAkeWeek2020, Stage Actors AU, Theatre AU, plays</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:43:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665452</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/collapsingStars/pseuds/collapsingStars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In circles, like prey stalking each other, Goro and Akira moved in time to the drumming. It was careful, deliberate, Goro drinking the sake as she gave. Akira’s dancing became more wild and feral in his movements. Akira pushed him back, and Goro’s heartbeat raced. Akira was ethereal, cloaked in the red and gold of autumn leaves, his cadence, his presence, filling the whole theatre. Like playing a harp, Akira plucked at the heartstrings in Goro’s chest until the audience and the stage fell away, and Goro felt almost as if he had really become drunk in Akira’s presence. Akira never went this hard in rehearsal, but now he was giving it his all, and killing it. The mask portrayed the noble woman of the mountain, but the audience was watching Akira unleash his showmanship, painting the entire audience into the mountain.</p><p>Day Two of Shuake Week 2020: Corruption/<b>Masks</b>/Games</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Shuake Week 2020 Project [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Momijigari: A Noh Play</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Another odd AU. Japanese “Noh” Theatre, if I’m going to describe it in probably the crudest American way, is like slow, Japanese Opera. It is associated with masks, music, and few props, to tell a story that is usually about deity, god, demon, etc. that has descended to interact with man. One of the unique parts of the artform comes in the style of the rigid masks and the actors movements to portray the characters. It is one of the oldest forms of high art from Japan, and contains much more rich history than that, but for the sake of this story, that’s pretty much what you need to know! </p><p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noh">Momijigari (紅葉狩) or Maple Viewing (English title) is a Japanese narrative, performed as theatre in kabuki as shosagoto (dance-focused play) and noh. It was also the first narrative ever filmed in Japan.</a> This noh play was written by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Momijigari_(play)">Kanze Nobumitsu during the Muromachi period</a>. Other titles for the play include Yogoshōgun and Koremochi. If you want to see the Noh play that this is based off of, it’s on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xr_73sVZ4nA">YouTube</a>, with a safe script download attached in the description! Note that this is not an exact copy of that play, I took some liberties for the sake of story-telling.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“It’s utterly ridiculous. I’ve played the beautiful </span>
  <em>
    <span>shite</span>
  </em>
  <span> for this performance for years now, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m left as Kurusu’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>waki?</span>
  </em>
  <span> It’s disgraceful!” Goro was </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuming</span>
  </em>
  <span> as Yusuke arranged his hair. </span>
</p><p>“The warrior Taira no Koremochi has a strong and beautiful role as well. I thought you would find honor in such an important role, regardless of it’s scripted status,” Yusuke soothed. He finished arranging the white cloth around his head, tied at the back with his hair, forming a long ponytail. Then he pulled out the black hair paint, and began to carefully apply it. </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter, Kurusu’s been cast with the main role, </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> main role, and he’s not even a part of the family! The warrior is still second fiddle! What is Sakura thinking!?” Goro griped! He threw up his hands and earned a sharp flick to the back of his head. </span>
</p><p>“Do not move, or you’ll ruin the beautiful costume Takamaki worked hard to make for you,” Yusuke chided. </p><p>“She wouldn’t have had to if things were like they were, before Kurusu came along.” Goro settled, and let Yusuke continue to apply the black paint to his light hair. </p><p>“May I remind you, you were not of the family either, once upon a time,” Yusuke said. </p><p>“I was a child, Kurusu’s near age as an adult, it’s different.” Goro said. </p><p>
  <span>Yusuke didn’t say more, and let Goro fume over the situation in silence. He, as well as Yusuke, were among the sons and daughters belonging to Sojiro Sakura. They were all a part of the theatre troupe that performed </span>
  <em>
    <span>Noh</span>
  </em>
  <span> plays for the shogunate. The high art was considered a familial affair, and for the most part it was. But Sakura had a soft heart; he adopted Goro after finding him starving in the street. His mother had him out of wedlock, and died because she couldn’t take the scorn and dishonor. Goro was grateful to Sakura for giving him a family name and a second chance. As the shogunate’s reign continued, he learned from his new family and became a favored lead to perform for the generals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the past half a year had become a </span>
  <em>
    <span>horrible,</span>
  </em>
  <span> teeth-gritting affair, and Goro was cursing Sakura’s soft heart now. </span>
</p><p>A young man had arrived one day, named Akira Kurusu. He had been a rice-field worker, until he was branded a criminal for thievery, and cast out. He’d stolen the prized medal of a visiting general, found in his family home in a food pot. He insisted that he had no idea, and could be accounted for working during his visit. Regardless, they branded him with tattoos around his wrists and then his family exiled him. </p><p>
  <span>So he’d found Kurusu on the side of the street too, and brought him home. Goro had been entranced at first, a handsome and strong young man that seemed soft-spoken. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span> believed him when he said he wasn’t a criminal. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Almost.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Goro taught him, and he started as stage-hand and labor work in order to earn his living with the troupe. But as he interacted, they discovered he had a talent for acting, wearing the masks and saying the memorized lines for the troupe as entertainment. So Sojiro put him to the test, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was fulfilling his role as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thief</span>
  </em>
  <span> by stealing all of Goro’s lead roles! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Goro was technically the eldest son, however, he knew Sakura never really played by the traditional family rules. So for Momijigari, Goro was officially stuck playing the second lead. He’d been originally fine with it; he had never played the warrior for this play. But working with Kurusu was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Rehearsals consisted of constant criticism for Goro from Sakura, and praise for Kurusu. And Kurusu would do nothing but tease Goro: pretending to be awed by Goro’s acting ability, when Sakura favored </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span>, complimenting and encouraging Goro when he flubbed a line or step, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> steps and lines were perfect from the first try, making him blush when they had to dance and Kurusu liked to step too close. It was a constant tirade of criticism. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kurusu. </span>
</p><p>“If you continue to pinch your face in so angry a manner, a demon may come and freeze your face that way,” Yusuke said, and Goro came back to the present from his thoughts of the past sixth months. </p><p>“What does it matter? I’m almost always wearing a mask anyway,” Goro said. </p><p>“But then how will you attract a young lady with which to continue the family tradition?” Yusuke remarked. </p><p>“You and I both know that it’s not expected of me. It’s left to Sojiro’s actual son and daughter, Futaba and Ryuji,” Goro reminded him. “Besides, you know I’d rather be caught dead than with a woman.” </p><p>“Ah, yes, of course. Forgive my lapse of judgment, it’s not often I’m the one attending to and conversing with you,” Yusuke remarked. </p><p>“It’s fine. If it were Shiho here she would have said the same thing, and giggled about what man I was attracted to now,” Goro sighed. His normal make-up artist was taking a trip to learn from other acting troupes to learn new techniques. </p><p>“Is there someone you have your eye on?” Yusuke said, moving to Goro’s front to begin applying white face paint around the edges of his face and neck, to cover where the mask didn’t. “I know you spent a lot of extra time making sure Akira was nursed back to health in the spring, and teaching him how to be a good stage hand, before, well…” </p><p>“You be quiet!” Goro snapped. “I think nothing of him. He’s a thief, and I hate him. Sakura is a soft, old fool for letting him take my place. I wouldn’t be surprised if the family papers were signed after the performance tonight, and then he’ll usurp my family role and you’ll never see me again.” </p><p>“You can’t possibly mean that. After all, I work with Akira mostly, and I can promise he has no ill-will toward you that I’ve heard,” Yusuke said. </p><p>“That’s the first I’ve ever heard of it, and besides, he’s a thief, which means he’s also a liar,” Goro sniffed. </p><p>“If that is what you think, just remember to behave on stage. After all this is the head general’s favorite, and it would be scorned with your sour attitude,” Yusuke chided. </p><p>
  <span>“I would never soil a performance!” Goro scoffed. “He will be so pleased with the warrior role, that he will weep for joy when Akira’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>shite</span>
  </em>
  <span> is slain.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a beautiful if angry sentiment. Now lift your head…” Goro did as Yusuke said, and let himself drift awash in righteous anger, that he’d prove himself better than Kurusu. (Even if Yusuke’s suggestion had Goro thinking back to the pretty eyes and soft smile that haunted his dreams, and the easier time when he spent time with Akira as he learned about </span>
  <em>
    <span>noh.</span>
  </em>
  <span>)</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The music of the takio chorus rang through the crowded hall, as Akira stepped and sang carefully. Goro watched from his place behind the left hand stage curtain, jealousy burning within him. </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t deny that Akira was </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span> in form and stance, even behind the female mask that helped convey his role. His wild hair was tamed back and threaded with a wig, his figure pinned and poised, showing off new gowns made for him, for the role of the noble woman. He’d been received with awe as he’d entered, step by careful step, onto the stage. Goro was loath to admit it, but Kurusu brought a certain fresh air to the role, with new steps and gestures that conveyed the noble woman just slightly different than he had.  </span>
</p><p>Akira held his head high as the beautiful woman of seemingly high rank. She moved carefully, and her retinue of female attendants moved around her, like watching a beautiful, slow stream on an autumn’s day. The story went that the woman was visiting Togakushi-yama, a mountain in Shinano Province, here for the seasonal maple-leaf viewing and banquet. The general had requested it, since the seasons would match by the time the play was prepared. </p><p>
  <span>Akira’s voice, normally a deeper baritone, chanted high and light with the chorus, as he waxed his soliloquy about the colorful maple leaves. </span>
</p><p>“Autumn drizzle darkens golden leaves. Entering in the deep mountain, shall we enjoy the crimson leaves before the autumn rain falls?” Akira sang with the escorts. </p><p>
  <span>Goro watched, and chuckled silently as he remembered the first time he’d sung those lines for Akira, trying to make an example for him to follow. He had sat in silence as he watched Goro, and Goro felt a strike of pride when he finished and had seen Akira’s face, in awe of his talent. Of course it didn’t take long for him to catch up, but when it came to hearing Akira chant and sing Goro… didn’t entirely mind. It was pleasant and easy to listen to Akira, whether he was performing or whether they were just talking late at night, after rehearsal. </span>
</p><p>“....In an evening loneliness grows, lost in thought in a pensive mood, looking up at the late autumn sky, which is crying. Desiring by all means to be surrounded by trees with golden leaves…” Akira took the lead, his character sweeping the stage in low circles, reaching up for the trees which were not there, helping the audience along to imagine it. </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s quite different from Kabuki, isn’t it?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akira had asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes. It’s not as showy; it has more to do with the actors decisions in portrayal and the masks and costumes. If the audience is smart, they’ll understand and see the rich stories.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Goro had answered. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So when you had stepped in the clearing circle, how did you portray the awe for the golden autumn leaves?” Akira asked. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I… don’t. The message of loneliness in my fainted posture and taking a seat away from my tenants was more paramount for me. The woman is sad, since…” Goro said. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know you think I’m simple, but I do understand, Goro,” Akira cut him off. “The sway of her steps, careful observation, loneliness. But isn’t that why she desired to see the glory of autumn before the end of her life? Even in the depths of sorrow, there is a little joy in the things you love…” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>It was a delicate move to shift his hand, painted and lovely, to grasp at the air as if the leaves were right there. The mask was rigid, but his posture said it all. The woman was lonely, shoulders back, head held high, standing apart from her tenants. But in Akira’s stretched arm he could see not just loneliness, but a more forlorn expression, like the desire for how things used to be. </p><p>Goro could see the golden leaves. They were painted in the deep red of his sleeves and hovering at the edges of his fingertips as he recited his lines. </p><p>“The view in front of us is just as an old poem says, ‘As winds formed a weir in a stream, red leaves gather and cover the stream.’ If we cross the stream, the crimson carpet is disturbed. Let us rest under a tree, and gaze upon the spectacle of the branches for awhile.” He chanted, and swept his skirts around, the painted leaves on deep red making the imaginary leaves scattered on the ground, as he sat, poised as any professional. </p><p>Goro fought to clear his throat as the rhythm for his chant started, struck dry by Akira’s beautiful performance. </p><p>Just… just beginners luck. </p><p>“How wonderful!” He chanted, taking careful slow steps onto the stage, his robes sweeping majestically behind him as he strode in like the stage was his. Which it was. “Crimson leaves. Boughs and branches in late November are decorated in colorful brocade. An evening drizzle falls on the leaves, the gold and the red of the leaves grow deeper. A deer in the rain cries, seeking it’s companion! Led by the cry, we came far into the hunting ground. How wonderful is the autumn view! How superior is the autumn view!” </p><p>Goro strolled, controlled, bold, to the center stage, as his followers followed and chanted behind him. This was his part of the story now: a warrior, a hunter, who had come to hunt the deer before winter, drawn to the mountain by its abundance and beauty. And now he and his entourage had come across the strange noble woman and her entourage, out of place in the middle of this wilderness. It was meant to be a slightly romantic part of the story, the beauty of the woman and the strength of the man. His character was polite yet restrained, and slowly the woman opened herself up to the savagery held within. </p><p>Goro admittedly loved that part, pretending to be charming and perfect until the time came to unravel into the feral demon state. When he played he looked away from the warrior, proud, until he stepped into her clearing, taunting and teasing. But it was not so with Akira. Akira watched him, dead on, the moment he entered the stage. </p><p>And even through the mask, those steel eyes stalked him while he danced. Goro felt hunted, like the noble woman had known the whole time why she was here. It made something stir in Goro’s chest to imagine Akira acting like that with him. His eyes didn’t leave Goro until the temporary imaginary curtain went up, leaving the acting to the retainer and the servant. </p><p>The play moved forward, Goro asking the retainer why a noble woman wouldn’t give her name, nor why she was here. No one of importance lived by this mountain that he knew of. So be it - he and his troupe would respect their party, and taking off his boots, they would travel silently around. </p><p>Until her voice and eyes came to meet his. </p><p>“Since I am such an ignorable one, I was caught off-guard, thinking no one would notice me in such a deep and lonely mountain, to perceive the golden leaves alone. However, it was we, who were perceived. What shall we do?” Came Akira’s lilting voice, challenging Goro. </p><p>“Out of respect, for I know not who you are, we plan to travel around, to let you enjoy the autumn in peace,”  Goro answered, ever the warrior he was meant to portray. </p><p>“Like the old love poem,” Akira started, the twinkle in his eyes returning. “‘Who makes my heart so tumble like a pattern of cloth from a remote area,’ at the end of the road in this deep mountain? Even though you do not know who I am, out passing each other is fate. Why not stop for a moment?” He rose and greeted Goro, his bold posture matching Goro’s bold posture. </p><p>Up until this moment that had bothered Goro. He never acted like that. The woman was supposed to deceive, and so deceive he would do. Akira never pretended, not even once in his whole character in all of rehearsals, to be a timid woman. He would stand toe to toe with Goro. </p><p>
  <span>But now Goro could feel the eyes on them, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shite </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>waki. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Foils, at opposites, each with a role to play that meant one of them had to win in the end. </span>
</p><p>A fire lit in Goro’s chest. It wasn’t him against the noble woman character now. It was him, against Akira. And Goro knew in the end who would win. </p><p>“Not likely,” Goro bowed. “It would be best not to delay me, so I will be on my way.” </p><p>“Oh how unkind! Let’s shelter from the shower, you and I, under this same tree,” Akira was grinning, and Goro could feel it, even under the flat mask. Goro’s heart struck with a note of excitement. </p><p>“We draw water from the same stream,” the retainers and Akira sang, as they began to dance around his party. “This bond must have been determined in a previous life! Though you are but a passerby, why ignore this bond and not grant us the benefit of your companionship?” </p><p>Akira threw himself onto Goro, taking hold of his sleeve. Goro stops trying to leave. Well, he supposes that the villainess must have one win. </p><p>“On this remote mountain path, as deep as the fairyland, let us rest awhile with you to enjoy the chrysanthemum sake, and celebrate our fate and longevity,” he admitted, the temporary fool. </p><p>The play moved into full swing, drink, celebration! Akira laughed and sang about lonely hearts, and Goro with him. The taisho drummers went into full swing, mimicking even as the movement only sped up by a fraction of a hair. </p><p>Akira bravely pulled Goro to his feet, and still too closely, they began to dance. </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Akira, you’re too close!” Goro shoved him back, and Akira just laughed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can’t help it! You’re a wonderful dancer,” Akira said. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Doesn’t matter. If you’re that close, the steps will end up all wrong!” Goro huffed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It won’t if you’re leading carefully, all I do is follow,” Akira chimed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, follow too closely,” Goro turned and threw up his hands. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Forgive me Goro. It's a habit from when you were teaching me the ceiling rigging, and I was afraid to fall, to fail, so I stayed close to you.” He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, tracing down his back. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well you’re flat on the ground now, so… don’t be afraid to ‘fall.’ You’ll be... fine.” Goro offered begrudgingly. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I … okay.” He said. “Okay, let’s dance, and I won’t be afraid to fall.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>In circles, like prey stalking each other, Goro and Akira moved in time to the drumming. It was careful, deliberate, Goro drinking the sake as she gave. Akira’s dancing became more wild and feral in his movements. Akira pushed him back, and Goro’s heartbeat raced. Akira was ethereal, cloaked in the red and gold of autumn leaves, his cadence, his presence, filling the whole theatre. Like playing a harp, Akira plucked at the heartstrings in Goro’s chest until the audience and the stage fell away, and Goro felt almost as if he had really become drunk in Akira’s presence. Akira never went this hard in rehearsal, but now he was giving it his all, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>killing it. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The mask portrayed the noble woman of the mountain, but the audience was watching Akira unleash his showmanship, painting the entire audience into the mountain.</span>
</p><p>And then his warrior fell to the ground and went to sleep, prey to dance and drink, and the noble woman who was not really a noble woman at all. </p><p>“Even now, this proves the connection of our past lives, and the promises we swore to keep…do now awaken from you dream, and dream something peaceful, for me.” Akira chanted, his noble woman’s dance quickened to a frightening pace before he fled the stage to the ominous beat of the drums. </p><p>And now was Goro’s time to shine. </p><p>The beat stopped, and the Deity entered the stage, played by Sojiro himself. He bore a sword and a message. The reason for the warriors' visit to the mountain? To slay the demon that possessed it. And though she may have looked noble, the woman was the demon who would soon return to slay him. </p><p>Goro felt powerful as he rose from his sleep, sword in hand while Sojiro bowed out. </p><p>It wasn’t something he’d gotten to feel before - always the crazed demon ready to try and fight for it’s life against the myriad of warriors he’d performed with before. Some had looked pitiful, some had looked bored. But now it was his turn, and for the first time in this whole farce he felt oddly comfortable. Like when he stopped fighting being the warrior it settled comfortably like a second skin. He hoped the audience could tell, he hoped that this performance was what the shogunate was hoping for, and more. He supposed he had Akira and Sojiro to thank for that, speaking of which. </p><p>Akira didn’t look any less beautiful. </p><p>The robes had been exchanged for black, with deep red leaves. The mask still had it’s woman face but red, angry, horns jutting from its top. He could still feel Akira’s eyes, quick like arrows, pierce and challenge him. </p><p>Goro knew they both enjoyed the fight scene, like a better version of their dance. </p><p>“What a shame!” Goro started. “To allow myself to fall to drink and earthly desires. But a second chance - I’ve awakened from a holy dream.” </p><p>The chorus chimed in, the beautiful autumn becoming a violent storm, the woman becoming monsters. Akira did not speak, but shriek, as he himself had turned into a great dragon, and began stalking toward Goro. Goro stomped, a challenge to the demon to Akira. </p><p>Akira’s eyes were smirking. </p><p>Goro stayed calm and readied the sword. There were no more lines or pleasantries. Akira leapt forward, and tackled Goro to the ground, who spun quickly and dodged him, striking carefully. Akira responded in kind, jerking to indicate the hit. It didn’t stop him however, as he reached for Goro’s hair, jerking his head, and using his hands to indicate an attack on his chest. Goro jerked and fainted to the side, wrestling free of Akira’s grasp.  He made another point with the sword, getting another hit in. Akira bolted, but Goro twisted and caught him, slicing the sword across his throat, causing Akira to fall to his back. And then Goro stepped over and bore down on him, stabbing him through the chest and coming nose to nose. </p><p>
  <span>And everything came to a halt for Goro and Akira. When Goro had performed this move previously in rehearsals, he always felt triumphant, finally getting something over on Akira. But now he felt differently, anxious to be close, to be done, and to just talk and be with Akira. He had been phenomenal, and Goro craved more, not ready to kill Akira’s demon. </span>
</p><p>The taisho drummers and chorus sang the ending of the story, the triumph of the warrior over the demon. But all Goro could see was Akira smile through the demon mask, before letting them close and dropping his head to the floor. </p><p>The last drum beat sounded, and the audience began to clap. </p><p>Goro and Akira stayed in the final pose, letting the audience soak in the story. Carefully, in a practiced and timed move, they lifted their masks and turned them so the audience had the final picture, being able to see the warrior and the demon clearly, still hiding their own faces. </p><p>“Well done, Koremochi, my warrior,” Akira smiled, whispering to Goro as the audience continued to clap. </p><p>“I… you did well, Akira,” he whispered back. </p><p>“I’ll take it. Not as bad you thought hmm?” Akira teased. Goro felt his cheeks flush, considering how close their faces were. Even though the role was over and done, Goro still felt his heart race. </p><p>“It was excellent, I’ll admit,” Goro sighed. </p><p>“I can’t take all the credit, I learned it from you,” Akira started, and lifted his head to get closer. “We met and my “heart so tumbled” I couldn’t help but follow it and hope this would get your attention.” </p><p>“Akira wha-”</p><p>Akira let his lips cut Goro off, as he pushed up against him, barely perceptible by the audience as they hid behind the masks. Goro felt himself flush, red and hot, and let his eyes drift closed to kiss Akira back. That drunk feeling from earlier returned as he pushed against soft, red lips, his heartbeat settling to match the one below him. Suddenly, the last six months made sense, and Goro felt like an idiot for being so blindsided by pride. Akira hadn’t been trying to steal his palace or his honor, but his own heart. Goro couldn’t find it in himself to be jealous or petty anymore. It washed away like the leaves in the stream, and he was excited by the potential of this new role, to discover what being with Akira would entail. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! ^^* </p><p><a href="https://twitter.com/collapsedStarss">Twitter</a>, <a href="https://collapsingstars-nova.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>, <a href="https://paperstarsburst.tumblr.com/">Writing Tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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